Making Life A Whole Lot Easier

It's been a solid couple years since a proper full length was bubbling in the indie cauldron but pop giants Belle and Sebastian always seem to be lurking about. Their method is almost thrift-like in execution. They want to make a record last. They've hung on with a kung fu grip to the ledge of the monolith that was Dear Catastrophe Waitress. They've dropped a handful of EPs, including the simply amazing Books EP, let loose a DVD and now, the collection.

Push Barman to Open Old Wounds signifies a gathering of non-LP tracks from 1997-2001, all those pesky EPs and Jeepster 45s collected into one neatly packaged (immaculatedly packed if you have the "deluxe" edition) 2 disc set.



For the fanboys, it's really a convienence. All your favorite tracks are here: "Lazy Painter Jane", "Century of Fakers" and instrumental "Judy is a Dick Slap". I particularly enjoy "Le Pastie de la Bourgeousie", "Photo Jenny" and "Jonathan David". And people who swear by Tigermilk will surely cream for the "The State I Am In" demo version. The song is just that good. You know, just to name a couple.

If you haven't heard these psuedo rare tracks, let me ask you something, what the fuck are you waiting for? It's got all the makings: Stuart Murdoch's endearingly nice guy voice, blaring horn arrangements and all the twee pop that you can stomach. In my case, bring on the 7 course meal.

Belle and Sebastian: http://www.belleandsebastian.co.uk

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Watch out for the little guy. Those fuckers will sneak up on you.

Sometimes in your life you need to make decisions. Despite already owning a ticket to see Headphones, I am opting to see the Pixies instead. Fortunately, the indie rock gods have smiled upon me. I get to see both bands, on the same night, even on the same street. But for a small price. I have to miss seeing the Crystal Skulls.

Formed of members/collaborators of Pedro the Lion and Seldom and headed by smarty songwriter Christian Wargo, Crystal Skulls have mastered the skill of hinting. They hint at many influences, yet they sound wholly unique and original. They combine a 70s power pop sound of Television and The Motors with present day rock sound championed by Spoon and carried on by New York bands like The Natural History and Robbers on High Street. The oddest evocation is a Scandanavian pop sound (read: The Cardigans... and even Sondre Lerche) that is not particaularly placeable, but undeniably present.



Wargo warbles with the best of them, living in a comfortable medium between the melodic and speaky style, of dare I say it, that dude from Cake, John McCrea. The Skulls manage to compliment Wargo impeccably with swirling almost-jazzy jangly guitars, funky basslines and inobtrusive drum beats. From the start of their debut album Blocked Numbers on the increasingly awesome Suicide Squeeze Records, "Airport Motels" (perhaps a nod to The Motors, in a very saucy fashion) lives to its name with a soaring chorus. The other bookend "Away From Home" sashays like a lounge number, it's poppiness bursting at the seams. Wargo uses his jetset melodic style to frame snappy songs about girls, the biz and the social scene. "Hussy" could be the best of them all, with a myriad of guitar rhythms slithering over each other which Wargo belts out perhaps the catchiest chorus on the record. With a little more exposure to this song, the word "hussy" could make hipster lingo comeback.

Perhaps Crystal Skulls will go onto be the next Strokes. And I will regret not seeing them on this tour. I could say "I was there before Wargo started doing Sketchers ads and hosting TRL." At this point however, Wargo vs Black seems like a no brainer, and to be perfectly frank (no pun intended), it shouldn't. What kind of self respecting indie lover passes up a chance to the see a giant of the genre in a relatively small place for a supporting act just starting out? Not this guy. But it doesn't mean I have to agree with myself.

Crystal Skulls are on tour with Headphones and will be performing at Cafe Du Nord (moved from Slim's) on 5/30/05 for anyone who is without a Pixies ticket and with a lick of taste.

Crystal Skulls: http://www.crystalskullsonline.com

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Facilitating The Release Of Catchy Songs In The Jail They Call My Head: Song of the Day

Song of the Day: Jens Lekman "You Are the Light (by which I travel into this and that)" from "When I Said I Wanted To Be Your Dog" (Secretly Canadian)



It was only a couple months ago that I was introduced to the free music videos on digital cable. As I rifled through the lists of horrible crap, I stumbled on a little video called "You Are the Light (by which I travel into this and that)" by a Swedish artist named Jens Lekman. From then until now, I've been trying to shake the song.

Some say it doesn't take a lot to win me over through visual media, but Lekman's video was especially charming. The song itself is an insanely likeable, Bacharach-esque pop tune. The blaring horns swing with big band bounce while the nerdy Lekman belts out the opening line, "Yeah I got busted, so I used my one phone call to dedicate a song to you on the radio." If that one line ain't enough, allow me to continue.

Lekman's stateside debut (from 2004) "When I Said I Wanted to be Your Dog" is chock full of melodic twee-pop songs in the vein of Belle and Sebastian and comical folk tunes of Ween. Lekman possess a suave voice of Moz and Stephen Merritt, and at the same time, the goofiness and leftfield approach of an Adam Green. "You Are the Light (by which I travel into this and that)" is the standout track with unbelieveable vibrance and pizazz. It screams catchy single and has more hooks than the LA Forum during the Kareem Abdul Jabbar era.

In the video, Lekman sits in a moving police van surrounded by officers in riot gear. Lekman in a seemingly relaxed state, croons his song clad in medieval armor. The van is passed by speeding cars bearing horns, as the passengers play along to the tune. Soon enough the officers are holding french horns, flutes and trumpets and Lekman has a 60 mph brass section. And as we know from such films as Garden State, The Cable Guy and Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, having a dude wearing armor in present times can really make the movie a classic.

Maybe now I can move on having this cathartic blog entry. It really is that great though, it's gonna be pretty damn hard to make a more perfect pop song. Okay, maybe i'm not ready to move on. I should seek outside help. Perhaps this treatment could cure my Junior Senior-itis as well.


Why so sad tin man?

Watch Jens Lekman's "You Are the Light (by which I travel into this and that)" video on Y! Music: http://music.yahoo.com/ar-8216945-videos--Jens-Lekman

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Most Popular Band In The World Prepares For New Release

It was destiny for me to take down Rogue Wave. When my life path fell in the same path of that of Jeremiah Johnson, drummer for DeSoto Reds, all signs pointed to me searching Rogue Wave and destroying. As the story goes, Zach Rogue, "freshly laid off from his dot.com job" and "tired of being creatively confined by band DeSoto Reds" put an ad out in craigslist and boom Rogue Wave was born. At a snap of the finger, they were opening for The Shins, Spoon, Super Furry Animals and Mates of State, signed to Sub Pop and cover boys (and girl) for Mesh Magazine. And DeSoto Reds became the infamous band left behind by Zach Rogue, a footnote in a rising bands bio.



Somewhere in my quest for revenge for my friend and co-worker Jeremiah, I hit a snag. I heard Rogue Wave's Out of the Shadow and experienced the well crafted melodies, gentle arrangements and witty lyrics. I had fallen for worst cliched trap in the book: the enemy's irresistability. I was a robot programmed to kill and failed miserably when my compassion chip was activated. And now I'm fugitive amateur music critic on the lam, secretly helping both bands in any way I can without being found that I work for both sides.

Yeah, sort of like that.

********************

Pitchforkmedia.com reports this news:

Known for its pleasant melodies, subtle vocal techniques, and worldly honesty, Out of the Shadow left listeners glowing with optimism. Sub Pop took notice and released it properly in 2004. Definitely a record unique in quality, but restricted in theory as it only shows one side of the band-- that being Schwartz. Pitchfork had a chance to catch up with Schwartz (aptly referred to as Zach Rogue) to discuss the anticipated new release abnormally entitled Descended Like Vultures-- interesting for a follow up to a record based on transformation and personal ambitions. "I wasn't sure if I was going to become this raving control freak," said Schwartz, referring to a full recording press with the entire group. "It ended up being the most fun thing we have done together as a band."

Tracked in Portland, "This is a much more expansive record [musically] than the first one," he says. "There are some bigger sounds happening there." That includes a rhythm section, whereas for the debut it was added at the end, but even more importantly, at least for this young rocker, Rogue Wave plugs in and offers us electric guitar as well. The major difference is not in the sound and recording process however, because according to Schwartz, "It's going to be a lot weirder than the first one being a darker record." After digging into his subconscious, he admits, "Maybe that's the inevitability of losing the innocence of starting off fresh. Before, it was me and my friend, no label or anything just a real inspired moment between friends. It's moved into a different thing with touring and pressure to deliver it on time. There is a heaviness to the record that I really didn't expect when we were tracking it, just kind of came up that way. Something in your mind tends to shift when you start touring�you become a bit weary of things."

With the mixing finished in New York City, just after participating in an eight car accident, Schwartz finished Descended Like Vultures, setting it for a Septemeber 27 release on Sub Pop. So far the tracklist is not finalized, but recent live favorites "Love Lost Guarantee", "Publish My Love", and "Cat Form" will be making an appearance.

********************

Life underground continues. Just not for Rogue Wave.

Rogue Wave is appearing live at The Independent 7/1/05-7/2/05 with Helio Sequence.

Rogue Wave: http://www.roguewavemusic.com

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Fox Hearts Arrested Development!!!! (and some other music shit)

This is how happy I am right now.

This news is totally and utterly unrelated to anything in this weblog but can we just share this joyous moment with a little enthusiasm. The Fox Network has picked up Arrested Development for a third season. "Arrested Development is one of the best comedies on television," Fox's recently appointed entertainment president Peter Liguori said. "The decision to order another season becomes easy when you consider its amazing cast, creative brilliance, critical acclaim and advertiser appeal."

Makes sense to me.



Onto more weblog relevant issues, I've been listening to the Books new record Lost and Safe for more than a month and have yet to find one track that surpasses any of their previous material from Lemon of Pink or Thought For Food. But that shouldn't stop you from taking a little taste of their weird sound-collage glitch folk. Remember what I said a few days ago... singing? I'm full of shit. The Books need to stop singing and do more of that freak-out banjo/guitar computer noise.

But I digress. The duo is hitting the road for the first time and each show is sure to be a "Dude, I was there, man" moment. I can't say I see too many to acts in this format:



You have the right to be skeptical. But let me remind you, "That right ain't shit."

The Books play Cafe Du Nord tonight 5/17/05 (all ages) and tomorrow 5/18/05 (21+) with Mia Doi Todd and Casiotone for the Painfully Alone.

The Books: http://www.thebooksmusic.com
Arrested Developement: http://www.fox.com/arresteddev

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DoT(AF)WHAA: Installment #3

Electrelane
Axes (Too Pure)

Words. Totally underrated. I am a person who catches a tune before lyrics. And consequently, I tend to sing along to songs and completely butcher the lyrics. On the other hand, sometimes bands make melodies that cater to amazing words, and come out and stick to you. You fall asleep listening to the music, liner notes loosely gripped by your near-numb hand. Electrelane is not one of those bands.

It's not that the lyrics are bad; there just plain isn't enough of them on their third full-length Axes. The Cambridge-educated Verity Susman had displayed equal knowledge of words that had been created in the past and words that had been put together by her own hand. She drew from poetry, philosophical work and infamously edgy literature from the 1920s. She bred these with her own emotional writ and created a complex piece of work in the form of 2004's Power Out, one of my favorites from the year. While Power Out also included four different languages and variety of textured melodies and soundscapes, the Steve Albini-produced Axes (Albini also did Power Out) fails to diversify as well as it's predecessor perhaps because of it's lack of words.

This really should come as no shock, as Rock It to the Moon, the band's debut album was practically instrumental. But I can not help but feel let down. Power Out was such an intricately beautiful album, smart as whip and sharp as a blade. Axes hints on some of those qualities but at times extends itself too far. It loses itself in expressionism.

The irony of Axes is that is succeeds as much as it fails. In its seemingly directionless nature, Susman and crew (Mia Clarke, Emma Gaze and Ros Murphy) maange to bring out pretty engaging melodies. Furthermore, Axes is based in the art of repetition, yet it rhythmically manages to meander with a sense of controlled chaos. And like previous albums, Electrelane creates an amazing cocktail, with a shrewd mix of unabashed noise and gentle hooks. There is an effortlessness about the way they are able to present unbridled rock without harming the pop delicacies that make them at all accessible.

When Susman does sing, it's pretty gold. She doesn't possess a lovely voice by any means, but her unrefined choir style singing works in mixing their two sides. "Bells" opens soft and gentle with rolling bells, a lone organ line and cute guitar picking, then eventually and progressively gets louder as the fuzzed out guitars slowly assert themselves and the pace picks up. "Two For Joy" finds Susman leading her band in a transcendant vocal chant leading up to a dramatic climax. Notch another for words.

Arrangement wise, Electrelane seems to move like a spastic runner, starting on a light jog, then exploding into a sprint and repeating the process in no particular order. "If Not Now, When?" starts off as a leisurely walk in the park with its jazzy piano plinking and culminates into Susman banging on the piano and Clarke lighting her fuzz box on fire. They crash into each other wildly and randomly, and ends when they seemingly get exhausted from all the mashing up. They seem to nod more to Sonic Youth than to the Velvets (in comparison to Power Out). "Eight Steps" is a Yann Tiersen song gone awry, as it can soundtrack a dark Jeunet film going from it's menacing organ lines to a melancholic piano piece. Then back again.

While songs like "Business or Otherwise" are plain unlistenable, "Those Pockets are People" is the greatest intro to a song they didn't write. The repetitive thump and guitar garage explosion leads seamlessly into "The Partisan," a song made popular by the great Leonard Cohen. The Electrelane treatment is perfect, Susman sings the anthem with great urgency and the bands drops the folk for punk rock. It is also good to see the Chicago Choir return on two tracks ("I Keep Losing Heart" and "Suitcase"), after lending their voices for the simply amazing "The Valleys" in their last turn.

It was almost a year ago when Ratatat fan for life, Landis "Philly" Knorr told me Ratatat needed words. I laughed him off, thinking that was silly Philly talk. Now, I sympathize a little more. Though I still think he's wrong about the 'Tat, Electrelane's artsy-farstier than thou album has made these ears more open and aware. Whether this means I'll be accepting or clampdown harder, remains to be seen with each further word and non-word.

Electrelane is co-headling the Great American Music Hall with Deerhoof on 6/16/05. You better act like you know.

Electrelane: http://www.electrelane.com

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DoT(AF)WHAA: Installment #2

This is the second of three records that were brought down from the mountain to spread the gospel on the Day of Three (Actually Four) Wu Highly Anticipated Albums, May 10, 2005. It is also the second to last time I have to hold on to a really lame joke and acronym.


Headphones
S/T (Suicide Squeeze)

Much animosity can be generated when a band decides to take on a different style. I am completely guilty of doing such things but with just reason. There are reasons to like a band, and in turn you can use those same reasons to dislike a band. When such a thing happens where your favorite nerd-core band from high school, the one who made the seminal album of your teenage years, decides that they are rock stars and will proceed to rip off everything from awful cliche classic rock to the Killers on their new Rick Rubin produced record, I feel no remorse for shitting on it. I'm all for growth in music maturity or taking new paths to deliver your message, but "Beverly Hills"? That's growth in being a dickwad hack. I digress, however. I'm so easily side tracked. Anyway, these fanboy tirades are part of why side projects were invented. Or at least that's how I see it.

Enter Headphones. Touted as the electronic side project of Pedro the Lion main man David Bazan and hetero band lifemate and creative collaborator T.W. Walsh, Headphones present a much different twist on the whole side project issue. Here is a band that never needed to branch off; their new self titled record is an extension of where Pedro the Lion seemed to be heading before stepping back on Achilles Heel (a great record but recording and arrangment-wise, a step back).

People fancy Headphones the Postal Service of Pedro, a comparison I find incredibly flimsy. First, the production is somewhat lo-fi. Bazan and Walsh creative a fresh and almost gritty sound. Secondly, most of Headphones is recorded with live drums and synths; it's still a band. The recording really brings out a fantastic live feel. Thirdly, people dance to Postal Service, I can't say the same thing about Headphones.

Pedro the Lion's Control is the most sonically dense and forward-thinking record Bazan has put out to date. Songs like "Rapture" and "Magazine" are synth heavy, a far cry from the acoustic guitar pluckings of It's Hard to Find a Friend or the indie rock jangle of Winners Never Quit. When Bazan admitted to stripping down Achilles Heel to replicate a live sound, it seemed that the aural promise that Control had brought had been stashed away like new fancy china, only to be used for special occasions, but otherwise destined to collect dust. Headphones finds Bazan taking out that china and adding a silver set as if to say, "If we're gonna do it, let's do it for real!"

Okay, so I might have tried to put a square peg in a circular hole. If this had been the follow up to Control, I would have been quite shocked. Only with Achilles Heel inbetween does Headphones make sequencial sense. Subtract a little synth and add guitar and you would have a Pedro the Lion album. All the pieces are there: shoegazing but catchy melodies, minor chord hooks and Bazan's soothing, understated baritone. The lyrical subject matter is typical: politics, societal dysfunction, human behavior and love. Bazan is master with a sad catchy melody. "Shit Talker" and "Natural Disaster" are the record's top songs, the latter boasting the hookiest keyboard lines this side of Mates of State. The former has an almost Broadcast drum sound, hollow and in the forefront, alongside with horn-tinged synths giving it a sort of regality. Each song with intense listening displays many different textures and moods. "Hello Operator" drenches its beeps in atmospheric noise and thump while "Hot Girls" cutely bonks and blips its way into a pop gem, albeit with scathing lyrics. It seems Bazan's tongue is especially sharp on the album, so much so that to my surprise the album isn't called Headphones the Return: This Time it's Personal.

Naysayers will say the subtlety is gone, that Control worked because Bazan was sparse with his use of synths. To that I say, dude, we're listening to a completely different band, man. Chill out. God bless the side project.

Headphones drew a bad hand are playing the same night as The Pixies, but if you want to buck the system they'll be over at Slim's on May 30, 2005 with labelmates and buddies Crystal Skulls. Me? Both maybe?

Headphones: http://www.headphonesmusic.com
Pedro the Lion: http://www.pedrothelion.com

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DoT(AF)WHAA: Installment #1

The best part about this whole "Day of Three..." bullshit is I don't have to come up with a clever headline. Because you know all of my headlines up to this point have been incredibly witty.


Spoon
Gimme Fiction (Merge)

Let me start off by saying that Britt Daniel is one of the few people I've fantasized actually being. I'm mean, think about it. He's a raspy voiced Texan with a knack for writing amazing rock songs. And he's a tall drink of water. So it goes without saying that with every move Mr. Daniel makes, I expect it to be nothing short of unbelieveable. Anything not fantastic is a disappointment, like seeing a superhero defeated or long winning streak snapped. Kill the Moonlight was nearly perfect, and not even my favorite Spoon album, so we can really see what Daniel has to contend with.

Plainly, Spoon's new album Gimme Fiction, is a disappointment. It has minor flaws in many places and it seems to draw from all the other Spoon records, without capturing any of the real substance that made the other albums terrific. On top of that, like Girls Can Tell, it lacks a real scorching rock number, except Girls Can Tell had a "sound" that every song could take shape with. Gimme Fiction lacks that definition.

Now, I spend a lot of words retracting a tad on what I call misses on this weblog, and this album is no different. It's still a very good album. It's just the most boring and static Spoon album thus far. As it's begging for me to qualifying it, Gimme Fiction is like a less catchy, more interesting Robbers on High Street album.

I've listened to each song very carefully, and the only way I can explain this is song by song. This is what I've come up with.

"The Beast and Dragon, Adored" - Though the piano is dramatic and engaging, it really is quite a cheap anthem. It screams arena rock. Joan Jett can say "rock and roll" in a song but for some reason, it really bothers me when Daniel uses those words.

"Two Sides/Monsieur Valentine" - Excellent song. A classic Daniel melody, with the sparse use of piano in all the right places. However, it should be louder. More loud guitars. As it is, it would fit nicely on Girls Can Tell.

"I Turn My Camera On" - I found Daniel's use of falsetto disconcerting to begin with. When you got a voice like Daniel, you gotta use it. It could be one of my favorite Spoon songs if he sang it straight, because the funkiness of this song is deniable. Minimal is arrangement but that's the sound that works for them.

"My Mathematical Mind" - Another near hit. Big sound, but the song goes nowhere, it's unfocused. There is a great mix of slamming keys and haywire guitar solos.

"This Delicate Place" - Pointless but unoffensive.

"Sister Jack" - This is one of the biggest offenders on the album. The melody is solid, but the delivery is so close to Train or the Wallflowers that I see Britt singing with his shirt buttoned down to last few notches and wearing leather pants crooning to thirtysomethings with sweaters around their shoulders drinking wine. I know it's a fine line, but one more step the wrong way I will see Daniel dueting with Matchbox Twenty and Santana. The piano demo of this song is a keeper, but as my esteemed colleague Daniel Edward Rosen said, "I thought I bought Spoon, not John Cougar Mellencamp?!"

"I Summon You" - An absolutely brilliant tune. Nothing wrong at all. In fact, after hearing the demo of this track about 200 odd times over the summer and fall, I expected very little out of the album track. Instead they keep the rhythm and melody and just add a bouncy drum track and almost non-existent bassline. Cream.

"The Infinite Pet" - The thumping bass makes it sleek and sexy but the melody is drier than beef jerky.

"Was It You?" - The dancy intro is promising but man, I've listened to the song at least 10 times and I couldn't begin to sing to you the hook of this track. It's a rare thing for me, especially with Spoon. A great opening song for mixtape if you plan put Shaggy as track #2.

"They Never Got You" - Okay, first off, they completely lifted the intro to "American Girl". Not cool. But in general, this one holds up pretty well, chugging along unassumingly, with a healthy shred of dignity and charm.

"Merchant of Soul" - This is the closest to Kill the Moonlight the album ever gets. It features a great piano line, almost Brubeckian in style and meter. It's off beat and quirky. A very strange closing song, I'd have put one of the many piano anthems to go out with bang but a little offguardedness (a word? I dunno...) is completely embraced.

The peaks and valleys I describe on the album is very drama queen of me. The album is decent, and discernably Spoon. As the bonus tracks will prove (with "Carryout Kids" piano rock blazing), Spoon is still Spoon, Britt is still Britt. I'm like an overdemanding father berating his child for bringing home a B+. And the long of the short of it is, I just can't stay mad at them.

Spoon is performing at Amoeba Records on Haight Street on Friday, 5/13/05 and at The Fillmore on 6/20/05. Time to break out the underwear specifically designated to be thrown at heartthrob bands.

Spoon: http://www.spoontheband.com

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Please Excuse My Lack of Participation

Dear Mesh Magazine Online Weblog Reader,

Absolutely, I've been lagging on the blog of late. And today is part of that malaise that has shrouded the Backfield In Motion blogisphere. In the immortal words of Short Round, "No time for love Dr. Jones."

But all of this is about to change I promise you, just not today. May 10, 2005 bought forth three (actually four, but we'll save that for different time) albums that I've been highly anticipating. Today is hereby known as the Day of Three (Actually Four) Wu Highly Anticipated Albums (or to the kids, DoT(AF)WHAA... so catchy). And I assure you, you'll get the full Wu treatment, for better or worse. For better I hope. The albums:




Okay?

Best regards,

Christopher S. Wu

ps. The bands are Spoon, Headphones and Electrelane.

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A Bogus Lesson In Geography: Song of the Day

Song of the Day: Architechture in Helsinki "Neverevereverdid" from In Case We Die (Bar/None)



I'm pretty good at geography. Like pass-the-pie-piece-in-Trivial-Pursuit good. I just wanted to mention that. This song of the day really has nothing to do with capitals of countries or the highest elevation of mountain ranges, but it does include a manic Aussie pop band called Architecture in Helsinki. And I hope after that, you realize why I felt urge to share with you my adeptness at geography, sometimes known as Social Studies.

While it's hard for me to get pass the name of this excellently bizarre band, it's equal hard for me to mention an Australian band and not mention some of the greatest rock acts to ever come out of the former British colony. With big guns such as Silverchair and The Vines, why even bother starting a band down under? The bar has been set so high.

All joking aside, with the growing number of decent pop acts emerging from Australia, Architecture in Helsinki is a special breed. In fact, they aren't so much from Australia as they are from a whole different planet. The octet has progressed quite a bit from the electronically-tinged, far less rich Fingers Crossed, a quaint and cute release that brought to mind a more robotic Belle and Sebastian or a less bratty Unicorns. Building on that, their new album In Case We Die has already garnered comparisons to Animal Collective for it's unique treatment of melody, but more so the Fiery Furnaces in its endearing exuberence, chomping at the bit to switch things up at a constant rate.

The opening track "Neverevereverdid" is the perfect example of AiH hopping in their sonic fruit punch-fueled rocketship, leaving their ritalin pills behind. It starts with bells tolling moving onto Star Trek groovy astro-lounge chanting to a lone theremin. Enter the horns and dramatic toms, and now we really have a hokey pokey going. Stick your left foot in. Stick your left foot out. Shake it all about.

After using a smorgasbord of instruments, a fraction of their full arsenal on the album, the song proceeds to take you on a bumpy ride of fast and slow parts. AiH helms the wheel with the most iron of right feet, but keeps the motion sickness to a minimum. How? I was gonna just assume it's magic. And AiH would love for me to think it that way. So I'm gonna go with that.

The song's biggest weapon is its overall percussiveness. The guitar strumming, horns and xylo/vibraphones give the track a bounce and very Japanese flair, whether fast or slow. If not authentically Japanese, perhaps a Gilbert and Sullivan version of Japan, with it's choral chanting, rhythmic singing and woodblocking. I must say "Neverevereverdid" does make me wish W.S. Gilbert had used much more gang vocal yelling in The Mikado.

Architecture in Helsinki have created a piece complex and accesible at the same time. They wear pop like a thrift store suit, quirky and charming, never fitting perfectly but gosh darnit, the color is extremely rare and you know after a couple wears, it's not some 2 dollar suit, it's your suit.


Architecture in Helsinki are playing Cafe Du Nord on May 25th with Still Flyin'.

Architecture in Helsinki: http://www.architectureinhelsinki.com

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Newsflash! Two People Admit to Liking L.A.!

The Raveonettes
Pretty in Black (Columbia)

Sune Rose Wagner: "Sharin, my dahling, what vould you like to play today?"
Sharin Foo: "I vould luff to play cowboys, Sune Rose dahling."

This is the first thing that popped into my head about 10 seconds into hearing opening track "The Heavens" on The Raveonettes new album Pretty in Black.

There are so many things wrong with this conjured up fantasy. First, they're speaking in German accents. That makes no sense at all seeing that Wagner and Foo are Swedish. Second of all, I've seen the band live three times and they speak perfect english. But the cowboys part, I've nailed, sort of.

On their debut full-length Chain Gang of Love, the duo found themselves the purveyors of sexual noise. One part 1950s soul, one part Beach Boys, one part Jesus and Mary Chain, Chain Gang of Love was bubblegum pop wrapped in dirty, grimy fuzz and feedback. They were Sandra Dee clad in leather at the end of Grease, a glistening voice with a potential dark side and even loose morals.

So what is this about cowboys? They either have the attention span of a T-Bird in math class or a serious identity crisis. Even on Pretty on Black, the Raveonettes seem to shift uncomfortably between 50s pop jingle and Morricone spaghetti western guitar lines.

With a wider view of the Pretty in Black (which I thought was a Johnny Cash tribute at first), the more all-encompassing theme becomes more clear. Their obsession with the romanticizing of the American West is clearly the basis for the album, as the duo celebrates the dramatics of the frontier and at the same time, the glitzy, show business aspect of Hollywood in the 1950s. The two are not mutually seperate, as the John Waynes and Gary Coopers paved the way for the heroic portrayal of cowboys. And now the Raveonettes have picked up on it.

Because of this adoption of the western theme, many places where a My Bloody Valentine buzz would be raging, an acoustic guitar strums along serenely in comparison. The album is altogether less noisy, which was so defining in the Raveonettes prior work. As a result, the album seems too polished. The production value for the band as always been high, but Pretty in Black is just too darn clean. That being said, some of the songs' melodies carry extra weight. "Seductress of Bums" and "Here Comes Mary" are tremendously poppy songs, the latter with homage-like similarity to The Chordettes ("Lollipop"). On the western front, "If I Was Young" leans on a slide guitar and an Gene Autry-esque tune. The singing cowboy maybe the perfect mascot for the record, Autry being an idol of Hollywood and Country music in the golden era.

Perhaps the most obvious song is "Ode to L.A." with a guest spot by legend pop singer turned rocker Ronnie Spector, powered by a melody that evokes Ronettes comparisons. Foo and Wagner's harmonies are what we've come to expect out of the duo but it's a surprise at how well they mesh with Spector. It is perhaps the sparkling diamond of a handful of gems and a couple of lumps of coal, including a stale, uninspired cover of The Angels' "My Boyfriend's Back", to which I say "So predictable."

Though Pretty in Black may be an enjoyable album, it only feels like half a Raveonettes album. It's as if they wrote the songs and released it as songbook. They forgot that writing songs only makes half the band, and that when you have an unmistakable signature sound, it's wise to use it. Though I suppose, you can't fault them for not trying, they did enlist Mo Tucker on drums for a handful of tracks. Try as they might, it'd perhaps be best to just reload their reverb-cocked guitars and mosey on down the dusty trail in search of the lost gold they once possessed.

The Raveonettes: Http://www.raveonettes.com

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Extended? Please. Good Goodbyes.

EPs can be so difficult. In my obsessive desire to categorize everything, EPs just screw up everything. Is it a record review? Is it a song of the day? It's the middle child begging for special treatment. Well, I'll give in. So let me introduce to you "Extended? Please." a new segment that will probably be pretty rare, and still retain the same incoherent ramblings of a song of the day or a full on record review. I mean, the title makes no sense already. And you can bet your ass, the review is gonna be shorter, if I'm only getting 4 songs.


Good Goodbyes - S/T - Omnibus

As much I as I want to sit down and analyze the side projects for every band as fantastic as the Shins, you and I both know what result would come of this. A headache and messy shelf of CDs, out of order. Not everyone can be a Postal Service and some bands just end up being dismissed because they're not the original band. The Good Goodbyes fall right into that category.

They fall into that category with just cause. They're just aren't the Shins. While boasting Marty Crandall and Neal Langford of the Shins (and Howard Hamilton III of the Busy Signals), comparing them to the Shins is like comparing Arnold Schwarzeneggar to Danny Devito in Twins. Sure the Danny is charming and amusing, but who are we kidding here? Arnold's got the pecs and Kelly Preston; it's hard to compete.

While the Shins boast intricate lyrics with delicate melodies, Good Goodbyes' tracks, though not without its share of poppiness, come off stale and somewhat uninspired. Musically they are a cross between Pavement and Beulah, but without the bold quirkiness of Malkmus or elegant melodicism of Miles Kurosky. The lyrics are pure silliness and ought to be somewhat ignored (especially the "drop dope rhymes" line of "A Million Bees").

The self-titled EP is too small a sample size to really cast down judgement on Good Goodbyes, but they seem like a band of could-a-been songs, close to hitting the nail on the head but instead slightly nicking your thumb. I still love Marty and Neal, but this is far below what I expect out such fine artists. Going from listening to the Shins to the Good Goodbyes is like going from prime rib to weird brother of prime rib. Though in general, the release is pleasant and for the most part unoffensive ("Unhinged" is a pretty decent summery pop tune), it still ain't the Shins. I know it's not fair, but neither is comparing The Beatles to Wings, but I sure as hell do that.

Omnibus Records: http://www.omnibusrecords.com

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